The Reaping: Immortalibus Bella 2

by SL Figuhr

  The little boy was shiny-eyed with curiosity. “The man says he knows you, and since Her Grace is not to be disturbed, he asked to talk with you.”

  “All right, you can leave him here, I’ll see he gets back out.” Eron dismissed the kid, and swiftly said to his friend, “Wait a moment.” He told the women to continue training, led Colin just far enough away he could keep an eye on the ladies but not be overheard.

  “What the hell happened? I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

  Colin just stared blankly for a moment at the women, before managing to lift his eyes to his friends, “Mica.”

  “Is missing. We can’t find him either. What happened? The slaves at your dwelling came to us after the fire, let us know the two of you had gone out and never returned. I suspected Nicky, but...” He let his hands fall open.

  “How long have I been gone?”

  “Days, weeks.”

  Colin continued to stare blankly at everything and nothing. His friend sighed, “Come on. Let’s get you some food and drink and a bath. I’ll even find a bed for you.”

  * * *

  Eron was exhausted from training the female recruits, barely staying awake for supper. He left word with the staff that he needed to talk with the duchess. His friend was still recovering, fast asleep. The immortal snuck into the room being used as an office and stumbled to the couch. No one would think to look for him in here. If he could just lie down for a bit...The next thing he knew, Eron was being kicked awake. He awoke to see Illyria with her brow cocked, staring down at him. She was in a scarlet dress which bared her shoulders and most of her arms.

  He blurted out, “Miss Scarlet in the library with the candlestick.”

  She merely smiled. “The slaves will gossip if you are found napping in here, Inspector Clouseau.”

  He sat up and ran his hands through his hair and tried not to be angry but it came out anyway. “I pity poor Mica; he could be stark raving mad by now. Or being forced to make his captors into Immortals. Have you done anything to find him? Anything but continue to ruin the Earl’s life? When the hell did you start messing with married men? Or have you always?”

  She sighed and leaned back against the side of her work table, “Eron, let’s leave my personal life out for once. I am trying to find Mica. I gave you the list of the boy’s properties, did I not? You said you found nothing.”

  “He can’t have just disappeared. If they notice he heals from any torture, it will be disastrous to us all.”

  “Is it possible he is not being tortured?”

  “No, he is. It was something I learned from a former captive of Nicky’s who managed to survive. The little boy loves to torment his enemies.”

  “Why would he want his secret revealed? If his minions inform him that Mica heals in a supernatural manner, they’ll wonder why he ignores their tidbits of news.”

  “I’m only telling you we need to find Mica; without him, we cannot get rid of the little boy. He’s the one who hid the soul gem. Non-negotiable, Illyria.” His eyes bored into hers. “Speaking of which, how is it you can walk during the daytime?”

  “Must we go into this now?”

  “I need to know what you can do, just like you needed to know how my kind came about. I’m tired, Lira, I’m tired of all the games and all the lies. For just once, I would like someone to trust, whom I could count on to trust me in return, no matter what I have been or what I have done or what I will do.”

  “You are not the only one who wishes for such a person. It is very few who find a person. You, who have lived so much longer than I, should know that most of all. But I know how rare such a person can be, and when I find them, I treasure them”

  “Quit resisting, quit concealing. I know you’re busy trying to empire-build, but if we could put Civilization: Post-Cataclysm on hold for a night?” He could see she did not get the reference so he continued, “Give me the quick description? Quid Pro Quo.”

  “We do not need to sleep in coffins, but we do sleep during the day as mortals do the night. It is only with great effort, and only upon reaching a great age, that we can tolerate indirect exposure to the sun for short periods of time, and move during the daytime.” She spoke in a tone meaning she would not discuss more.

  “I can’t believe your vaunted powers have not located the kid, much less Mica.”

  “To find the information in someone’s mind, whoever has him has to be thinking of him as I mind-search. But there are so many people who hate, fear, even envy Nicky that it is he who consumes their thoughts, and not whomever he might have imprisoned.”

  “Why can’t you just do your Jedi-mind trick on people?”

  “I can’t do an effective mass mind-wipe and still hide what I am. Even if the damn demon weren’t messing with people’s emotion. I’m Immortal, not Unstoppable; I need rest and sustenance as well.”

  Eron rubbed the back of his neck. “All right. What about the kid’s slaves? Surely they of all people would know his secrets?”

  “No; they’re useless. Tongues ripped out, so I had to drink from each one only to find they have no useful information. Only one slave who could speak, and he was blind; what he heard was useless.” She omitted to mention the gaping holes, as if their memories had been violently ripped from them.

  “Shit snacks! This is a fucking disaster! He had to trust someone to carry out his orders!” Eron scrubbed furiously at his hair.

  “I’m beginning to think his damn demon did everything for him.”

  “And you went and hacked apart the body which contained him, so now we’ve got an undetectable evil spirit in the vicinity.”

  “Oh yes, because I should have just let it kill me and Nicky would have captured you. Or perhaps you think I should have bargained with it? Call me what you like, even I am not arrogant enough to believe I could outwit a being of such magnitude.”

  She felt her blood pound, and fangs craved the plunge into a vein. She couldn’t let her anger get the better of her or it would only confirm the worst legends of her kind.

  “You know what I don’t get? Why you didn’t just rip the information about his identity from the kid’s mind when you realized he wasn’t like the other mortals.”

  “I already told you: his blood tastes foul and poisons me. Since you’re so determined to cast me in the role of evil vampire overlord: if I could do that to him, then I could do it to you, or Colin, or Mica...”

  He held a hand up to stop her. “Sorry I asked, ok? Thank you for deciding to trust us enough not to do that.”

  His apology seemed to mollify her; the angry glow faded from her eyes and she nodded curtly.

  “What of the hunting lodge? Colin seemed to think it important from what Mica had said.”

  “No sign the boy had been there recently. There must be a better search technique.” Eron paced the room, “Mica is running out of time...”

  “You’ve already explained about the healing after torture. I am using my powers to help, but you must understand, they do not work as well in daylight.”

  “But there’s something else: you know our souls are contained in gems, kept guarded, but there’s a time limit once a ritual to Undo is put in motion with the removal of the gem from the cave. There’s only three ways to stop the ritual: the person it’s aimed at is Undone, the gem is replaced in the cave, or the caster exceeds the time limit, in which case their life is forfeit. The guardian takes the gem back, ending the life of the one who removed it. Mica is within days of that third option.”

  He watched dawning realization come over her face. “Mica was foolish enough to set it in motion before ascertaining where the kid was?”

  “I wouldn’t say foolish, more like overly enthusiastic. He didn’t expect his quest to take so long. I never expected to discover Nicky knows the magicks he does.” Eron snorted. “Or demons.”

  “I can’t believe Colin has no idea where his brother hid the gem, or why Nicky hasn’t commanded his pet to retrieve it. I would think a
demon could find it, no matter what.”

  “Colin is so rattled over his brother’s capture and his own, he’s having trouble focusing. As for Nicky, I don’t see him giving an order which would let his pet possess something dangerous to himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t need to kidnap Mica, unless it was in revenge for being hunted all these years. Are you sure it was a demon? And not something else?”

  “I have met evil people, and those possessed by ill-intentioned ghosts, but never a real, honest-from-hell demon until that night. I...saw its true form for a brief moment...It made a point to brag of what it was and how we could do nothing to stop it.”

  He opened his mouth to reply, thought a moment, and snapped his mouth shut. Thinking back on what Cassiopeia had invoked in his tent centuries ago, he recalled that she’d called it a spirit, a guardian, but she could have been using a term with which he was familiar. The reality might be very different.

  “I can’t say I ever have met an honest-from-hell demon. Huh. If good exists, evil must as well. There used to be so much fiction about them, there has to be a grain of truth in there somewhere, kinda like the tales of our kinds. I’m also thinking, since true Nicky- and Cassiopeia-style magick is rare, so are demons. People mistook something else entirely for the demons. I remember well enough what havoc regular evil can wreak.” ‘Cause I was considered evil once. Eron thought to himself and continued, “So Nicky found a real demon somehow, or stumbled upon how to call one up in his long, long life of practice.” His tone a tad awed.

  They both gave identical shudders and turned back to their discussion.

  “He must have found a way to trap it here, but how?” Illyria let the thought trail off.

  Eron did some mental calculations. “OK, here’s what I’ve come up with. We don’t know what the little boy needs to keep that thing here and on a leash, if you will, but I know someone who is interested in debunking myths and legends.”

  “How terribly convenient,” she replied drily.

  He glared at her. “Colin. We need to bring him into this, let him know what we’re up against besides a vengeful, demon-wielding, magic-using Immortal twelve-year-old wanting to bring the Final Death to his enemies.”

  “No! I will not have another person know what I am. I trust you because we have known each other in the past, shared adventures...” She trembled with rage, her eyes blazed bright.

  The immortal held his hands up to placate her. “We need him, we need his knowledge. We need a plausible sounding reason, and Mica is most likely still cursed, one more problem to deal with. If you’re so damn paranoid he’ll go all Van Helsing on you because you’re a vamp, I’ll tell Colin you’re an immortal witch.”

  Eron watched as Illyria tipped her head to the side, with a hip jutting out, but seated herself in the chair behind her work table as he took one of the chairs across from her. A few oil lamps had been lighted, and outside of their warm glow, the room lay in shadows.

  “Did he explain where he has been the entire time?”

  “We didn’t get far in our conversation. I know you don’t want him knowing what you are, but...”

  * * *

  Colin noted the chilly silence in the room, and wondered what his friend had been telling Her Grace, and why Eron wanted Colin’s journal.

  “Thank you for joining us, Colin.” Her Grace smiled, but only with her lips and made a gesture to the small seating area where his friend already reposed. “Please. I’m sure you must have many questions.” She looked past him, as a slave came in with food and drink, and indicated the small table as she turned back to him.

  “I hope it is about my brother?” He seated himself and laid his journal beside him on the chair arm, accepting a cup of hot spiced wine from the slave.

  “Yes. Eron told me the little boy could not be found at any of his properties. He also said you and your brother encountered an unexplained phenomena in a grove adjacent to Lord Nicky’s hunting lodge?”

  Colin frowned. Why is he telling her these things? She has shown herself to be more open-minded than most, but that doesn’t mean he should mention things unless he means to turn her. He shot a questioning look to his friend before turning back to the woman. He took a sip of his beverage before speaking.

  “I would not use quite the same terms, Your Grace. I have encountered such things before; if I may, what exactly do you know of them? I ask so I may fill in any gaps.”

  She inclined her head graciously. “I ask because I’m concerned about events for which there can be only mystical or supernatural explanations. I was told the guards were undead—altered to feel no pain, to attack mindlessly and brutally. I’m worried those things may find their way here or to a farm, causing a panic.”

  The chuckle could not hide the fact Colin was uneasy. “It is as good a name as any, I suppose, though I have also heard them called zombies. I suppose Eron has told you of my little hobby?”

  “I would like to hear it from you.”

  “Yes, well. As you know, as merchants, my brother and I have traveled more than most people. In each place we traded, the locals had myths and legends, some pre-, some post-cataclysm. I started a collection of stories indigenous to each locale when I could get someone to speak with me.”

  He paused to sip again. “Most of them are just explanations of unknown past events or objects unearthed outside the current scope of understanding. Those creatures, zombies or undead, are one of them. Like the Haitian zombies, living men under the influence of powerful fish toxins. I have also seen plant matter used.”

  “Plant matter, fish toxins?” She furrowed her brow.

  “I am not privy to the recipe, or what exactly goes into it, but the men were under the control of a man calling himself a life-stealer. He let me watch one of his rituals. It’s fascinating and yet terrible. They are given many cups of this stuff to drink as the ritual unfolds. At the end, they feel no pain, have no idea of who they are, and are pretty much at an animalistic state. I asked him if he could bring the men back to their preceding state. He didn’t know how...perhaps he never cared to find out.” Colin trailed off in thought, shook his head.

  “How...disturbing.” She paused and continued, “The person you are searching for, Nicholas, he knows how to do what the life-stealer does?”

  Eron pressed his folded hands against his mouth, elbows propped on his knees, in an effort not to give any emotion away. Unfuckingbelievable! No wonder her kind can’t be found if they all act as she does.

  “I would not care to speculate further without more information. It’s possible he was apprenticed to such a person at one time, or has some arrangement with someone who does know the ritual to be provided with those poor creatures.”

  “The matter of the boy gets worse the more I hear.”

  Colin gave an apologetic shrug and smile and shot another glance at his strangely silent friend. “It’s terrible to learn the kid has progressed to even worse crimes. I was hoping we could still have saved him. But, with the capture of my brother…” He spread his hands. “Have you any other idea of where he could be?”

  Her Grace acted as if she hadn’t heard his question. “I was given to understand the young man has been seen participating in religious rites in a grove? Unnatural rites, some would call them.”

  Colin glared at Eron; his friend merely tilted his head to Illyria.

  “I would not worry overmuch; the religious rite is not real, in the sense nothing can come of it. No bogey men, or hexes, or strange and unexplained occurrences.” He sat back with a smile, glad he could put her mind at ease.

  “Odd, since a few nights ago I came across something I could not explain in other than supernatural terms.”

  The Immortal appeared flummoxed for a moment, eyebrows raised, as if finally understanding why he was told to bring his journal. “I will do my best to help make sense of what you saw. It is possible I have encountered something similar in my travels.”

  Eron’s eyes ping-ponged back and forth, amazed
his friend had no clue he sat across from a legend. Well, two, if he counted himself, being among the first Immortals to ever exist.

  The Duchess paused as if deciding on what she would say. “The being with which I interacted called itself a demon, and even though it wore a cloak, there was the outline of horns about the head, hooved feet, red eyes.”

  Colin looked flabbergasted, and he sent the other man a small gesture meaning what now? Eron sent one back meaning tell her the truth.

  “I’m sure there is a logical explanation,” Colin began.

  “I do hope so, as it killed a person by placing a hand on its victim’s chest—a black circle grew over the heart. Now, for the sake of argument, if such a creature did exist, how could it be found, controlled and trapped?”

  He took a gulp of drink, set the cup down and leaned forward, planting his forearms on his knees and decided to indulge her.

  “Let’s say Nicholas believes himself to be a practitioner of the black arts—magic, if you will—and has mystic powers. The grove about which we have been hearing rumors figures prominently in magic ritual. He would have to have a circle of men or women to help him. Now, they don’t need to have mystical powers; it would be enough, I think, for them to believe they’re being dangerous and different. Nicholas knows better: he uses their energy to ramp up his real black magick. He feeds off them.”

  “Uh, disturbing, on multiple levels. Especially if you don’t know it’s happening.” Eron said, his first contribution to the conversation.

  Colin flipped journal pages, speed reading. Finally he looked up. “Sacrifice is needed; the ‘white goat’, symbolizing a human, is preferred when calling demons. A circle of protection is needed to bind the demon from getting free and killing.”

  “Flaw in the argument: it seemed to be walking around pretty damn free to me. I was cautioned more than once Nicky’s slave was just as bad as he is, and to be avoided at all costs. Is it possible people instinctively knew it was a demon without knowing that’s what it was?” Eron asked.

  Colin looked up, startled, mouth gaping. “W...w...what do you mean? How does his slave have anything to do with this?” He turned to Her Grace. “Is it he you saw doing the unexplainable? And not Nicky?”